


Now I'm Learning To Love The War

by amoresonly



Category: World War II - Fandom
Genre: DDay Invasion, M/M, World War II, please don't steal my characters, this is my original work with my original characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 02:34:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11118075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoresonly/pseuds/amoresonly
Summary: In the heat of the D Day Invasion one man takes it all, heart and soul, in order to find the one he loves.





	Now I'm Learning To Love The War

**Author's Note:**

> This is my English final and I never really got to share it with anyone so I decided to post it! I hope you guys like it ! please also don't my characters or storyline thanks.

  

 

June 1944

His heart pounded in his chest, his uniform stuck against his skin, the gear heavy amongst his back, and the brim of his throat itched with toxic gases. So, this is the war huh? He stopped running for a moment to realize his surroundings and noticed he was the only one left. Private Percival Matthews was left alone on the beach of Normandy. He did it. He survived.

But something felt off. No it was not the sudden nausea he felt from the sea water nor the sudden feeling of glass shards in his left leg, but the feeling of rejection on his right side. His brows furrowed together, he looked around, it was quite, bodies laid astray, some stacked in piles others still floating in their watery graves. Matthews hushed a silent prayer to his fallen comrades and wiped the dirt of his face. The now red waves crashed silently, the gunfire had stopped, and no sign of life seemed to appear. Matthews, full of grief couldn’t go on, he was full of anger and fear that he couldn’t even make out proper words to describe the attacks. So tears began to fall freely not out of sadness but, a faint smile formed across his lips, his bruised and battered face lit up with joy, he gets to go home now.

But his thoughts of paradise were interrupted when the sound of light running came up in the distance.

“ Matthews you still breathing !”, he jerked his head away from the floor and up to his Medic.

“ I’ll be damned ! Miller Graves is that you !”, it was Graves. He jogged up to him and embraced him in ‘thank god you're alive, old friend’ hug and the shorter man smiled up at the Private. Here he was, he was living and breathing, nothing seemed out of sort, nothing seemed wrong. But before he could make small talk, he vanished into thin air. Confused and scared that he was actually hurt Percival dropped to his knees and frantically began to search amongst the bodies. Every eye, every lip, every face reminded him of Graves, but it wasn’t him none were. He was still alive he had to be, every Medic was needed. Matthews looked up at the now destroyed Nazi base his eyes welled with tears and his fear began to grow, Percival Matthews you’ll eventually have to accept his fate. So he trudged his way through the maze of corpses and up towards the Western Front. He remembered his promise to his men and to Miller, that no matter what he would bring them home, even if he had to fish them out of German prisons he would. He would make every sacrifice so that they may walk on American soil again.

He held his rifle close to his chest, the heat of the barrel ripped through his jacket, the large machinery began to weigh his arms down. But he had to continue his hike in order to complete his promise.

_“ I’ll come back to you Graves !”_

_“ I know ! You can’t live without me !”_

That short memory, the day they were separated. They were lined up in two’s one side would cover the Eastern Front and the others in the South. It wasn’t any surprise that they would be ripped apart. He remembers the look on Graves face, he was scared. This would be his first time without Percival but, he reassured that he will live, ‘ just follow your Captain okay..’, he told him. The memory stayed implanted in his brain for the entire war. The time they spent together helped him continue his mission, it helped him ignore Death’s cold grip. He lit the wilted cigarette praying that the tobacco would some how calm his nerves, but he was then proved wrong when the sound of spit fire echoed in the distance. Now his prayers turned into frantic pleads for mercy. Matthews lean body shook with fear when the sight of Nazi commanding officers began to roam the fields for breathing Allies. He threw himself into the open trench to escape capture, his breathing began to come out in rapid spits, his skin burned his anxiety and his heart threatened to jump out of his chest. Percival closed his eyes and held the rifle close to his heart, he kissed the medallion around his neck and jumped out and began to shoot at nothing. He couldn’t make out whom he was his target.

“ Hey man ! It’s me ! Graves!”, Matthews slowly lowered his weapon only to be greeted by his dear friend with arms in surrender, “ Don’t shoot..”, he muttered. He quickly threw the rifle to the ground and for what felt like the first time embraced his friend. Graves seemed okay, he seemed great actually.

“ Where are you Matthews, we need you..”

His voice was becoming very distant, his body was beginning to fade and his embrace was becoming nothing more than a memory. Matthews eyes then burst open and the sound of shouting foreigners plagued his ear. He cursed under his breath ,he peered over the dirt wall, the German army was beginning to fade, and his chance for survival continued on.

He walked for what seemed like days, with no food or water. The soles of his feet began to bleed. He was in the country fields now, the lush green outback of Normandy, but still he could taste the ocean and hear the bloodcurdling screams of his comrades. He pushed his now black and grey hair out of his face and shielded his eyes from the sun, the search would be longer than intended. Matthews looked out in the distance for a sign of rest, but the path seemed to continue on for years. He considered camping for the night but, could not rest until his companion was at his side again. As he walked he recalled their time together in the armed forces. He remember when he met him, in the training camp. Graves couldn’t even shoot a damn gun. He pitied him and during his spare time Matthews, the expert in gun control, helped the medic shoot a couple of cans off the fence. Graves was coming out of high school when he enlisted and Matthews had already been a Private for two years. He took him under his wing, he became his friend, his mentor, his father figure and Graves clinged to him.

“ Oh, Miller Graves..”, his boots crunched under him, “ Graves, Graves, Graves, always the boy never the man,” his arms began to feel like he was underwater trying to reach the surface, “ why did you go away..we-we were supposed to look out for each other, remember ! We were supposed to come home together ! Ya know America waits for us!,” his yelling was becoming violent now, “ WE WERE SUPPOSED TO COME HOME TOGETHER! LIKE WE PROMISED!”, his voice roared, it could hit every corner of Normandy, but it hit him. He was right, Miller. Matthews could not live without him, he was making him go insane, this journey this quest would only kill him. He laughed a lunatics laugh. He was going mad ! His thoughts were all over the place, they roamed to all parts of his mind. Revisiting even the most traumatizing events. The anger from the war that was built up inside of him and was released in a fit of tears and shrieks. Alone on the field of Normandy proved that he was destined for insanity.

_“ Miller I don’t want you to wait for me, if I’m hurt you join the other fellas, leave me behind and I’ll come and get you, Okay ?”_

_Miller shook his head_

_“ You got it sir, anything for you.”_

‘Anything for you, huh.’, Matthews thought, he thought how naïve Miller was, he thought about Miller as a son, a little brother. He thought about how Miller could’ve made something of himself, he was so smart, he could’ve made something better for himself. He didn’t want Miller to end up like him, a washed up lunatic. He wanted him to be happy and not face the tides of war but, it was to already too late. He was the most wanted medic in all of the platoon. And he cared for him.

The air was suddenly becoming very thick and the toxic feeling in his throat returned. A low hum was growing in the distance, closer and closer it grew. He couldn’t see the tail. Allies or Axis? Allies or Axis ? A swarm of planes came up in front of him. There they were, the demons from hell, Satan’s armada had arrived! His mouth gaped open and lodged in the back of his throat was the fear. He felt dizzy and weary. The base was to the east, his men were in the east and he was in the west. Miller was in the east. This whole mission was a waste of time. He regained his senses and ran towards his medic, rifle ready he ran the whole 200 plus miles towards the base camp. His adrenaline was at it’s maxed point, veins bulged in his arms as he tightly gripped the rusty rifle, his chest heaved , and his wide eyes scanned the grey sky looking for the bomb raiders. ‘Don’t stop keep going !’, he constantly had to remind himself to stay aware, keep a look, keep everyone safe no matter what. He was an honorable man, he was a great man. He is serving our country for god's sake. Percival Matthews was a hero. And all he wants to do is see his friend and get him home, no matter the circumstances.

His stomach flipped, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and there in the distance a small piece of smoke broke out in the lonesome sky. And smile of relief broke out on his anxious face, he made it. Stumbling a bit as he walked down the grassed plains, his mind suddenly went blank. They say you don’t feel it at first, not til after the adrenaline fades away. But when it pierced his body, he began to feel everything all at once. He gasped for air, his face grew pale, and his brows furrowed together in confusion as he reached down to his abdomen, and with wide eyes his hand was drenched in blood. The red and sticky substance made its way out of his clothes and onto to the floor. He was in denial, his racing heart and aching head couldn’t have made it any better. Matthews eyes grew heavy, he was tried, he wanted to rest, just for a little bit. The devil could still see him standing, what a brave man he thought. Should he end his life right then and there or show him mercy? But, he recalled what his commanding officer had told him, ‘clear the field or don’t come back’, he thought about it. He really did but, another bullet was shot right below his heart. The excruciating pain exploded throughout his body. He clenched his heart tightly trying everything in his power to stop the bleeding but, he was no Medic. His Medic, he’ll come for him. Right? He staggered heading towards the camp, clutching his heart and stomach, blood seeping through every corner. He tried to remind himself of his men’s honor and what accomplishment it would bring him, and possibly won’t make him crazy anymore. But the blood had found it’s way out threw his mouth. It stained his teeth and made his breathing difficult. He coughed and sprayed blood everywhere. The metallic taste made him gag. He was not going to make it. His weight was collapsing under him, if he had to drag himself he would. Closer to the camp, crimson colors were staining his guns, his heartbeats were slowing down, his eyes were bloodshot and hardly even open, but he managed. It felt as if he was underwater again, wrestling his gear off, dodging bullets left and right. Then another shot of pain fell upon him and he closed his eyes collapsing onto red dirt. Flowers would grow out of his grave for sure, his corpse landed on a bed of wilted bent roses.

_“ Private Matthews are you injured ?”_

_“ What did I tell you about worrying about me..”_

_“ I’m sorry sir, I-”_

_“ Miller you’re a good person you shouldn’t worry about me, my boy I’ll be okay.”_

His body abruptly woke up, drenched in sweat, sore all over and his tired eyes fell on the sight of the sea. A half smile formed on his dry lips. Is this what you see when you die? The waves crashed against the rocks below and someone approached him.

“ Private Matthews?”, the voice was unrecognizable, “ Private Matthews!”, he turned to the voice and came face to face with fellow Private Newton.

Newton spoke softly amongst the sleeping soldiers around him, “ We called back up. You're going home buddy.”

He was still trying to process what his fellow comrade was saying, then he locked eyes with him and said, “ Wh-where’s Miller”.

Newton smiled sympathetically and called out for a medic. Matthews looked around at the poor saps. Some with gunshot wounds, some blind, and others missing their entire goddamn leg. He noticed that they had gathered up injured allies and brought them away from the battle, towards the Eastern front, where they’ll hopefully be safe. His mind was beginning to play tricks on him. A series of hallucinations, the sultry voice of his ex wife, the frail visions of his secret lovers, the wailing of his dead children taunted him in his sleep. He knew of his fate and the others around him, the Medics were not equipped with the proper medicines to have him fully survive so, he could only sit and wait. His heart was still slow and his breathing was still prolonged, he couldn’t take deep breaths for his chest would shake and rattle. His body was on fire. He was surprised that his fever didn’t kill him first. Cold sweats and dehydration were consuming his body, he was dying slowly and painfully. He lied in the cot, not moving, still. The lose blanket draped over his body covering any exposed bandages and skin. His breath came out in shutters and the cold hand that rested on his forehead made him jump instantly.

“ Your temperature is 104”, he pulled the wet towel off, there was a hint of tiredness in his voice, “ I heard you were looking for me..”

Matthews could hardly make out his face, his vision was beginning to fail, but the familiarness in his voice never surpassed him, “ I-I searched the entire field for you.”, he swallowed hard, even if he couldn’t swallow at all.

“ I know, I know, They were searching for you too”, he pushed the fallen strands of hair off of his wet forehead.

Miller saw his face and how pale it began to look, he saw that his once vibrant blue eyes were now turning grey.

“ That’s very kind of you to think about me sir..”, the lump in his throat was making it difficult to speak.

“ Yeah, Yeah don’t mention it, I look out for everyone.”, his voice trailed off and accompanied with violent coughing. His entire body. He spit pieces of blood and phlegm.

“ Easy there private..don’t want you dying on me now, do you?”

Matthews forced a laughed, “ I’m almost there my friend..”

It seemed quite outside, the explosions had died down and the Allies were now taking their nightly shifts. The living and breathing soldiers tried to sleep but always failed. The old war dogs smoked cigarettes and talked about their old lives while others wrote letters to secret loves. But Graves didn’t, he didn’t have time for any of it, he wanted to be by his friend's side. Graves looked at him with sad unhopeful eyes, he had the decision didn’t he? He was trained to give it to them, no matter what. So he reached into his medical bag and pulled out the shots.

“ Hey.. hey hey whatcha ya..got there ?”, his voice was coming out in whispers now.

“ These ?”, Graves held them out in front of him, “ these bad boys are..painkillers’ morphine sir..”, he didn’t want to give him the real reason for their purpose so he pulled out clean bandages instead, “ Now let’s get these old bandages off..”. Miller removed the loose blanket and froze at the sight of the infected gunshot wounds. Dried blood and dark red, almost black substances poured out. The skin around it seemed to be turning various shades of black, slowly heading towards the stages of peeling off. But, the worst had to be the one next the heart. It began to show fresh muscle tissue, it was poorly covered, and the cloths around it were flooded with red tar. Matthews noticed his discomfort and quickly covered himself, pushing Miller away.

“ They won’t stop bleeding..”

“ Why didn’t you tell me ?”, he gave him a firm look, “ I could’ve taken care of you.”

He stood quite, his back now turned towards Miller. He was scared almost, embarrassed to talk about his injuries. But, his heart was now counting it’s final hours.

“ Are you ready to die..Miller ?”

Millers breath was trapped in his throat, “ Wh-what kind of question is that Private ?”, he was shaking at his friend's sudden thoughts of leaving. It broke him down.

“ In this war..everyone dies.We a loose a man or two but, that’s doesn't compare to what we Americans do, we kill.” reflecting on the memories he witnessed on the battlefield, “We don’t come back the same, none of us do. We forget who we were in the beginning. We forget our homes, our wives, our children. I sure as hell forgot.”, he paused for a moment tears formed in his eyes. He was in pain, “We die, we are born again and hopefully in the next life I’ll get to see you again, my boy.” He propped himself up on the cot, struggling as he did, but he brought him closer to his face, Miller could see his blood stained teeth and his glassed eyes.“ Thank you for your service, Miller Graves.” The once stoic man was now becoming the young helpless soldier he was two years.

Graves knew what was coming, he knew these were his final goodbyes but, he couldn’t bring himself to accept them. He deserved more time. He needed more time, he was still so young, he didn’t deserve to go out like this.

“ I deserve this Miller..I deserve to go out like this..”, it was now becoming difficult for him to speak. His words were becoming trapped and his hoarse voice rasped the room of his mouth.

“No no no..don’t talk like that okay? Newton said backup is coming..okay the British are coming..”

He tried to smile reassuring him that everything will be okay, “ there is no backup for me..”

Miller’s heart dropped to his stomach and Matthews lifeless hands reached for his.

“ Miller I want you to have this..”

Graves, eyes full of fear, felt the gift between his fingers,” Perci I could never..your wife she would..”

“ She means nothing to me..Put it on, why don’t you...remember me by..”

Miller smiled and slipped the medallion over his uniform.

“ There you go..all protected..”, his eyes were slowly closing and his lungs were slowly filling themselves with blood.

“ Thank you..Matthews, I’ll treasure our time together, you are a great man and I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened here, I could only wish you peace now. I couldn't have asked for a better friend...”. His voice trailed off for a bit, eyes on Matthews, his chest heaving and eyes looking out in the distance, “ Matthews..Matthews?”

He waited for a response but he was not facing him, “ Matthews, hey hey..you okay..come on now, don’t leave me talking to myself..”, he reached over to Percival’s motionless body. His friends blood marked his hands, the bandages had overflowed, “hey Perci..it’s okay..it’s okay..you're going home now, you get to go home now..”. He held his friend in his arms unaware of the mess he was making on his uniform. The blood would leave a nasty stain.

Other soldiers were now becoming curious, for the sound of Miller’s violent sobs echoed from the tent. No one entered the scene, no one dared too. All they could do was mourn the loss of their fellow soldier, as they’ve been doing since the very beginning.

_“ What will you do when you go home Percival ?”_

_“ You know you are the first person to ever ask me that..I don’t know I suppose I’ll divorce my wife then move out to New York..”_

_“ Why are you going to divorce her?”_

_“ She stopped writing me letters”, Matthews chuckled a bit and lit a cigarette._

_“ I live in New York.”, Miller said breaking the short silence._

_“ Do you now…,” Percival smiled affectionately,“Then I hope I’ll see you around one day..”_

No one trained him for this, no one trained him in the art of accepting your best friends death. He could only hope that it’ll get better, that one day he’ll find someone like Percival Matthews, someone with a heart of gold, someone that’ll save him like he did before. But, there’ll be no one like him, he was his own man, a war hero. And coping wasn’t going to come easy, so he held tightly onto the medallion and draped the white sheet over his friend. He hoped that in the next life, whenever that may be, that someone will come for him, even if he has to wait a million years, he’ll wait. He’ll wait right where Percival told him too, alone on the beach of Normandy.


End file.
